"Your Daily Tripod" reflects the personal Fourth Day journeys of its authors and editors. We are happy to have companions like you share in this project. Our prayer is that these reflections will invite and inspire your Fourth Day journey of Piety, Study and Action as much as writing or editing them inspires our journey and brings us all close moments with Jesus and our neighbors.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

The Truth in All This

I
approached one of those present and asked him the truth of all this; in answer,
he made known to me its meaning…But the holy ones of the Most
High shall receive the kingship, to possess it forever and ever.” Daniel 7:16, 18

“Beware
that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the
anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise...Be vigilant at
all times and pray that you have the strength
to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of
Man.” Luke 21:34, 36

Piety

Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
On old long syne. (Robert Burns and/or or an old traditional song)

Study

On this last day of the year, the Good News
from Luke is a fairly dire warning probably more appropriate for the readings
on December 31. File it away and read it
then, too. And keep the phone number of your designated driver handy.

Yet what does all this mean? What is the truth in all that we do? As Catholics? As Christians? As
Americans? As Cursillistas? As Knights of Columbus? As Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts? As the Rosary Altar Society? As the Salvation Army Red Kettle Ringers?

We are finishing a 365 day cycle and will
enter into a new one tomorrow on the first Sunday of Advent. We may not know the meaning (truth) but we
persist in faith with our practices of piety, study and action. Hopeful that the season will result in the
vision of Daniel.

No matter the evil that bears down on Sandy
Hook Elementary School, a movie theatre in Colorado, a concert hall in Paris, an
open air market in Beirut or a hotel in Mali, we have hope that “the holy ones of
the Most High shall receive the kingship, to possess it forever and ever.” We have faith that the beasts who are
fighting for power and control right now will lose out in the long run.

Action

Our hope does not mean we can escape any of
the pain of life today. But...we have a
choice. We can give in to the pain of inescapable suffering or we can surrender
to the joy of hope.

Maybe what this all means, cycle after cycle,
is that we are to revel in the joy of hope.
Rather than drown ourselves in the pain of the past (for the sake of old
times), we can instead focus on the life that emerges.

Amanda Petrusich is the author of “Do Not
Sell At Any Price: The Wild, Obsessive Hunt for the World’s Rarest 78rpm
Records.” As a music subject matter
expert, she just wrote an essay for the New Yorker magazine on the life and art
of jazz pianist and songwriter Alan Toussaint who died last month. Born in
1938, he lived through a world war, segregation, civil rights riots, Hurricane
Katrina and more. She writes:

There is a
pervasive, odious myth about art-making—and I’ve certainly been complicit in
its dissemination—that has to do with anguish as fuel for a particular kind of
emoting. The idea is that the real work comes from suffering: when we are
denied whatever it is that we want or require, we take that hurt and turn it
into something else. It becomes grist for a mill. This is a religious idea as
much as a cultural one—self-flagellation as a road to transcendence.

It’s easy—nearly
satisfying—to think of pain as transformative. But Toussaint’s work suggests a
different way. Joy can change us, too—that’s evident in his songs. See
something miraculous, and watch yourself reappear on the other side, different,
better. There is so much gratitude in this music: a true gladness. What a thing
to hold in mind. What a thing to let yourself follow, all the way down to the
grave.[i]

Maybe like Daniel, it is about the joy of
discovering that hope wins, faith wins, no matter what.

“Joy, and discovery, dude.” How will joy change you in the closing and opening of a new liturgical year?